Inside Joke
So the other night, a bunch of us bloggers got together. Charlie was just back from holiday, having gone to China to hunt cats. JP had been missing him so he called up me & Amy and we decided to take him down to the local for a pint. We knew Pat would be there anyway so off we went.
It was very spur of the moment but I still don't think that excuses Amy and I pulling off on our way there to do our makeup in the Chevron ladies room. What were we thinking? The lighting was horrible and in our excitement to see Charlie again we totally neglected to apply a little foundation on our necks. Mary Kay is spinning in her grave.
Not that it mattered. JP is gay, Charlie was tired and Pat, well, Pat was a little deep into the sherry if you know what I mean. He didn't even mention my superfantastic hat and he usually always notices those sorts of things. Actually, it's a good thing he didn't notice our makeup...he can be really vicious when he wants to be. And besides, we weren't there to be glamor pusses. It was all about sitting at Charlie's feet (which Pat took literally as the night wore on), listening to his tales in that fantastic Scottish brogue and wishing like hell we were all half as talented a writer as he is.
I wish I hadn't had that 3rd fried Mars bar and I'm not sure Amy enjoyed the haggis-tini as much as she said. But we forgot all about our discomfort when JP got up on the table and did a medley of his favorite Hillary Duff tunes. That boy loves his pop music. All in all, a great evening.
Editoral Note: Ok. I suck at photosmacking. What are you going to do? And I couldn't find a decent picture of Pat on his blog so I kypped the bandito from his brillant photo essay on immigration instead. I think that's pretty funny (both the use of Bandito and the essay). I am easily amused.
Editorial Note 2: When I said I couldn't find a decent picture of Pat I didn't mean to imply that he looks like a hodag or something. The photos were all just too tiny. So I used Bandito instead. And besides, he's using one of the bandito shots for his avatar so he obviously feels a kinship with the little fella. It's symbolic.
Editorial Note 3: We so did too try to call you. It's not our fault if you had your cell turned off. Next time, ok?
cobbled together by Moi at 8:18 AM
12 Comments:
Are you kidding me? You and JP are the only people in that photo who look normal. Hell! Pat is a fracking puppet! Not to mention that I laud you as a great writer...it wasn't like you were the one making the haggis-tinis. Silly man. If I wanted to make you go bump I would have photoshopped you having a pint with Jesus, Moses and Mohammed. Take a compliment for once. Sheesh and pft!
It was nice to spend an evening with people who enjoy their beer and cigarettes as much as I do.
Charlie's just mad because Amy's hair kept hitting him in the face.
And I seem to recall that he had an allergic reaction to the product she used...took weeks for the rash to go away.
Lorraine - Love the hat!
Charlie - Interesting. I recall someone else saying the same thing to you recently. About taking a compliment I mean. Sheesh and pft indeed.
Thanks, Nicole. I got it in Paris the last time JP & I were there.
That Charlie.
You'll be hearing from my hair's lawyer....
Oh, Ams, why so litigous? We love your big hair. You know what they say, "The bigger the hair, the closer to God".
Lorraine: You realize, of course, that this means war. 'Cept I don't have Photoshop, so I have to surrender.
All: You can actually get Charlie to take a compliment unawares, but you have to hide it in a insult disguised as a double entendre as part of a synecdoche representing the process of unanaesthetized cat spaying/neutering. Quite simple, really.
I was grounded for sneaking Ripple into Sunday school and couldn't make it to the party.
I was in the can when they took this picture.
If you recall, Charlie, that is precisely why Pat sat on JP's lap, so as not to make you sit next to a lawyer. Do your worst, dastard. Nicole and I fear not your mighty pen. ('k, maybe I do, a little).
Pat, Whew. Dodged a bullet there. And giving Charlie a compliment sounds like hiding a pill in jam to get the baby to take it. (No, Charlie, I'm not calling you a baby).
Jon, I hope you've learned your lesson, young man.
Iwanksi, Yeah, as I recall you went to the can about the time it was your turn to buy a round.
Thank you for the diversity training. But I still think you're a very good writer and that you do a sight more than "rabbit on" in your blog (at least some times...we all rabbit rather a lot, don't we) and I don't mind saying so and while we're at it you don't seem to have any trouble telling the rest of us that we are good so you can give a compliment but you can't take it. And none of us are Albert Anyone.
(And just to trim up your logic a smidge...American kids TODAY are told that they are the best and that everyone is a winner, blah blah blah. But that wasn't the situation when I was growing up).
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